


Andromeda

by FoxyPug



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood, Everyone is a bit OOC, Light BDSM, M/M, Marius is a bit OOC, No vampires sadly, One Shot, mentioned underage, noone asked for this but I delivered regardless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:15:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28557471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxyPug/pseuds/FoxyPug
Summary: Daniel is a young reporter who needs to write a piece on the upcoming ballet 'Andromeda' by Marius de Romanus. What should have been a simple enough interview turned into something more when he meets the one of the young dancers: Armand
Relationships: Armand/Daniel Molloy, Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	Andromeda

**Author's Note:**

> soooooo…this might be a bit OOC. I am now a real life writer and instead of doing anything else in between projects I decided to waste my day off by writing a ballet!AU absolutely nobody asked for.  
> Sorry to all the ballerinas out there for messing up the terminology I've danced a bit but not quite enough.
> 
> Disclaimer: German is my first language. I studied in the UK but English is still a second language to me so keep that in mind 
> 
> Other than that: I hope you'll enjoy a bit of Armand/Daniel :)

“Tendu from fifth position…leaning into the barre and sousou”, the man instructed his gaggle of dancers as Daniel quietly closed the door behind him. He had tried to not interrupt the dancers but almost immediately all eyes were on him. Awkwardly he smiled at them and waved his right hand unsure of what to do with himself. It was his first interview for the Times and he just had to be late because of his nerves. After bumping into about ten people when hurrying from the subway to the opera house he wanted to allow himself one cigarette. One turned into three and take away coffee from the Starbucks across the street. A quick glance at his cell phone had informed him that it was about thirty minutes past the time the manager had agreed on meeting him.  
Now he was standing there, cold, half-empty cup in hand, staring down at the few men that were holding onto a portable barre, sinewy arms stretched from slender torsos, long legs in what he could only describe as leggings. His eyes fell onto the shortest of the bunch. A young man, surely not a day older than nineteen, his red locks falling thick and gracefully to almost his shoulders, framing the pale, soft face, albeit sticking to his forehead glued there by sweat. Big, brown eyes fixed upon him in disapproval of being interrupted by this outsider. His full lips parted, panting in exhaustion. Daniel was mesmerised, enchanted. Never before had he seen such a beautiful creature. He wanted to hear him speak, cling onto every word that left his mouth. The stories he probably had to tell. Of dances, choreographies and the fragile ballet music. He put the delicate fingers on his slender hips and fixed his stare upon the tall, blond man who had instructed them before Daniel had stepped into the studio.  
“Ah…”, said the man. “You must be Daniel Molloy.” He walked towards him, hand outstretched and immediately clasped his fingers around the reporters’. “I’m Marius, I talked to your boss.” Daniel’s eyes bulged. So, this was the man he should have met about forty minutes ago. He gave him awkward smile. “I’m so sorry for being late!”, he immediately apologised, shaking the man’s hand and feeling his palm damp against the other’s cool skin. Marius simply smiled. “Don’t you worry! I found something to occupy myself with”, he beamed, glancing behind him. White, hot jealousy seared through Daniel’s body as he followed his gaze and realised that it had fallen onto the beautiful dancer he himself had been so smitten with just a few moments ago. “They can always do with some reminder of the choreography”, Marius said. Of course, that was what he had meant. The tall man put a strong arm around Daniel’s hunched shoulders and urged him to come forward.  
“Unfortunately, you’ve come on a Friday. Most of the background dancers have already gone home”, he explained as they approached the few men that had already gone back to their exercises. “No worries”, Daniel assured him, squirming to get out of the man’s deadly grip. “I’ve come to talk to you anyways.” He took a few steps back, hurrying to straighten out his jacked after it had fallen victim to Marius’ strong fingers. The choreographer turned around and smiled: “But wouldn’t you want to talk to the dancers as well?” Something about his face unsettled Daniel deeply. His sweet smile seemed almost…predatory. He could not put his finger on why he felt this way. But the look in his eyes did not seem to resonate the gesture on his lips. Immediately the young reporter felt the urge for one of his cigarettes. But he could not excuse himself just now after he had come late. Daniel swallowed hard and forced himself to look around the studio.  
It looked like a dancing studio. He did not know what he had expected. A bright, big room with a wall made entirely out of mirrors. Across the door he had just come in was another one with a sign next to it that simply said ‘stage’. On the left a bunch of portable barres and one fixed upon the wall. Underneath it he found that the dancers had left water bottles, most of them almost empty. It was also unbearably hot in the room. Most likely because of the spot-lights beaming down on them and Daniel removed his jacket. Otherwise, the room was empty save for a couple chairs that had been stacked on top of each other and pushed far into a corner.  
“Let me introduce you to the star of ‘Andromeda’”, Marius said and walked over to a small man with brown hair, down to his well-toned shoulders. He was leaning forward, arms stretched out to each side, his left leg pushed out all the way behind his slender body, lifted to an almost ninety-degree angle while the right foot was twisted to the side in an uncomfortable looking position that made Daniel cringe. Marius put his hand on the young man’s lower back and pushed gently. “Keep your back straight”, he instructed softly and the dancer huffed, nodding. “Imagine there’s an invisible force pulling your head up and your leg back”, he traced the long fingers up and down the other’s body. All the way up to the shoulders and then lower and lower almost to his buttocks. “Keep the muscles tight. Beautiful, Louis”, he hummed. “Such a beautiful arabesque.” Louis’ cheeks were bright read. If it was from exhaustion from keeping the position for so long or embarrassment, Daniel could not tell but he did not have time to figure it out as a loud “Ow, Lestat!” sounded from his right. “If you don’t look where you’re going, maybe grab your own barre from over there!”, a rich voice reprimanded a blond man who had apparently stumbled over his own feet. It was the beautiful, red haired man from before who was now on the floor fumbling his shoe open to inspect the toes on his right foot. He was glaring up at the one he had called Lestat who seemed to pay him no mind. The blue eyes were fixed on Louis who had finally resumed a normal, humanly possible position. Marius pulled his hand back and simply smiled at the blond dancer as if to reprimand him with kindness. Immediately Lestat looked away and got back to what he had been doing before.  
“You alright?”, the only woman in the room yelled. How Daniel had not noticed her there before he could not tell. She herself was a beauty to behold. Soft dark hair and even softer dark skin and eyes like a deer’s, she hurried over to the short dancer who was already putting his shoe back on. “Armand, are you hurt?”, she inquired. 

Armand.

His name. Such a unique name for such a unique boy. Daniel’s heart skipped a beat when Armand looked up at his friend. The eyes big and open, even though filled with anger. He could have them stare at him forever, have these plush lips tell him that he was worthless, an addict, a waste of skin. Have his fingers tie him to his bed, whip him raw. His teeth against his throat, piercing the skin drawing blood. What would he give to have this man do all the unspeakable things to him that he himself dared not think about when he was alone touching himself at night where there were no witnesses to his wicked wishes! “Thank you, Akasha, I’m feeling fine. Lestat here…”, he glanced up at the blond dancer. “…may be heavier than he seems.”  
“Excuse me?”, Lestat huffed and whirled round to face Armand. “Heavy? Me?”  
“You almost broke my toe!”, the red-haired dancer spat but before their arguing could continue Marius stepped in and gave each instructions on what to do. Reluctantly they made their way to the centre of the dancefloor.  
Daniel wanted to watch. He wanted to see his gorgeous Armand jump and twirl and do all the tricks that seemed impossible for someone like the young reporter, but Marius had other plans. He diverted his attention back to Louis who was standing there awkwardly checking out the floor-boards.  
Daniel fumbled with the camera around his neck and activated the device before grabbing his cell phone and pressing record. 

“xx of January 20xx  
Interview with choreographer Marius de Romanus on his upcoming ballet ‘Andromeda’ by Daniel Molloy for the New York Times issue xx February 20xx” he mumbled into the cell. “Alright, let’s get the party started”, he said.  
“You’re Marius de Romanus long time choreographer of the State Opera and next to you is the star of your upcoming ballet, that you wrote AND composed, Andromeda. Your name is…” Daniel looked expectantly at the brown-haired dancer. He looked at him with light eyes. Captivating. “Louis de Pointe du Lac”, he answered. His voice was steady. Sure, certain of himself. But there was the hint of a foreign accent Daniel could not quite place as it was faint as if the man had left his home country way too long ago. “French?”, he guessed, and Louis gave him a kind smile. “Oui”, he said. “How long have you lived in New York?”, he continued.  
“For quite some time now. It must be about ten years now”, Louis answered.  
“So I take you like the city then?”  
“Yes, I do. I was to go to New Orleans originally, but I visited New York and fell in love with it and almost immediately applied at the Opera to see if they had a spot for me”, Louis told him. “And it was a good decision too!”, Daniel commented. He wanted to go on and get this over with. He did not know nearly enough about ballet to ask the right questions. Of course he had done his research before but it was still something he was not quite comfortable with. At his old newspaper he had been in charge of politics and book reviews. Things that did not quite mix but he had enjoyed none the less. Now that he had to make his way to the top all over again, they had charged him with what the woman who had recently had a baby usually did.  
“What is ‘Andromeda’ all about and what makes it unique?”, he asked Marius.  
“Well, it is a bit complicated.”

Great.

“But all in all, it is about the infinity of space and possibilities of us as humans and also how small we are compared to how great we perceive ourselves to be.”  
Marius’ pretentious explanation of what he was intending to do with his piece went on for quite a while. It went in one of Daniel’s ears and immediately out the other and he was eternally grateful for his cell phone’s ability to record. Had he done this twenty years ago he would have had to take notes and he would have already been lost. 

Marius and Louis were positioned with their backs to the tall mirrors. Daniel was facing them meaning he could easily watch the reflection of what was going on behind him. Armand was doing what Louis had been doing before, the arabesque, but added a long jump from one foot to the other. It looked so effortless and elegant, as if he weighed absolutely nothing and was not bound to gravity. As he landed on his right foot he bent the knee slightly pulling the arms inward before stretching them out way over his head. He elongated his back, leaning backward, one foot curled around the slim calf of the other. Then he twirled. A pirouette. Most likely the only thing Daniel knew by name. Armand came to a halt, lifted himself onto his tippy toes and stretched his arms high above his head before he again bent his knees slightly and relaxed his body.  
He was out of breath, exhausted, sweaty– and so was Daniel. Watching this man move so elegantly made him hot. He could feel the transpiration on his forehead, under his arm pits and across his neck where his camera was. His fingers left prints on the screen of his cell phone as they were so hot and the device so cold in comparison.  
Armand pushed his hair back, got into position, his feet turned out and positioned in front of each other. He bent his knees slightly, stepped to the side and pushed himself up onto one leg, on tippy toes again. A twirl. Armand landed on both feet, did the jump and repeated the choreography Daniel had watched before. When he finished he seemed unsatisfied. How and why, Daniel could not possibly understand. It had looked beautiful and flowing, like a river making its way across a soft field of flowers, undisturbed only touched by mild wind. He could have stared at him forever even though he was simply repeating the same movements over and over, but Marius had seemingly finally finished his monologue.

“Interesting”, Daniel said, clearing his throat and straightening his back when he finally managed to tear his gaze of Armand. He had hoped to sound as if he had been listening the whole time, but Marius had already noticed as he said: “He is a beauty to behold, is he not?”  
“Excuse me?”  
“Armand. One of my…fledglings. I trained him from the start when he was just a young boy from Kiev and I had not yet resumed the position I hold today. I used to train the children. Something I didn’t particularly enjoy but Armand…I knew he’d be great from the moment I laid eyes on him for the for the first time. He was the most promising of them all”, he leaned back against the barre, putting his entire weight on it until it creaked. “I don’t judge you”, he continued. “If I had seen him for the first time looking as he does now, I would’ve had a hard time holding onto myself. And I can tell so do you.”  
Daniel stared at him, shocked. How did this man know? How had he read him so well without knowing him at all? He did not want this conversation to go on so he decided to simply not reply to what had been said.  
“Hmm…anyways. ‘Andromeda’”, the young reporter said, adjusting his glasses as they had slipped down his nose quite a bit. “What was your inspiration writing it?”  
“I get inspired by so many things. Beauty being one of it. Central Park in spring, the sea during the summer, even the buzzing of the city at night. As well as my dancers and the music I hear every day. The way their bodies move to the sounds of the violin, the strums of the base, it simply made me want to create my own. My own music they could dance to. A puppet master if you’d like. I wanted to bend their bodies to my will”, Marius hummed staring at Armand. “It was a night out with him, though, driving out of the city, staring at the night sky that made me write ‘Andromeda’. It took me only twenty-four hours as I had been kissed by the muses. He is what ‘Andromeda’ is about. You’ll be invited to the premiere and you’ll understand then”, he smiled.  
Daniel was fuming. He was convinced that none of this was true. Who could write an entire ballet in just twenty-four hours? This guy most certainly was not Mozart and Daniel doubted that even the wunderkind of music would have been able to do so. The reporter wanted to call his words lies and outright demand truthful answers, but this was to be his first article and he needed to be civil no matter how much of a douche Marius was. The way Louis looked at his instructor did give him a bit of satisfaction at least.  
“Why did you choose Louis as your main dancer then?”, Daniel inquired.  
“Because he is precise. Pleasing to the eyes and an outstanding dancer. Armand is sometimes…too fiery”

Daniel took a couple pictures, congratulated Louis on the part and Marius on his success and hurried out the studio. He did not dare to look back at Armand. 

Daniel was downing what must have been his seventh cocktail this evening while staring at his own printed article crammed in-between a comment on a Marvel film and a review of a newly opened Italian restaurant. The chief executive had been pleased. But he himself knew nothing about ballet so who was he to judge whether or not Daniel had done a satisfactory job? He should be happy. He had been praised and secured his job position. But he was not. He was not happy because he could never be happy. He could be the wealthiest most successful man on the face of the earth, and he would still find a way to be unhappy with himself. If it wasn’t his job, then it was his finances and now that he was finally somewhat financially stable it was the fact that he had written about a topic he knew nothing about and got praised for something he practically pulled out of his arse. It was also the loneliness. Ever since he had moved to New York he had been lonely. At first, he had been unemployed and lonely and with that the drugs had come. It started innocently enough–just some weed and a beer now and then to keep himself from feeling shitty. When he could not land a job within the first few weeks he had started to go out and blast his savings on drinks and the occasional line of cocaine he had been offered to stay awake and out of his head. The men he went home with, the women he himself took home, they had given him all kinds of funny little pills to keep him happy. And now he was here–employed but unhappy, his head already swimming with alcohol and his fingers grasping at his cigarette for dear life.  
It was Saturday evening, the February night still cold, the wind driving snow and ice wildly through the air. He wasn’t the only customer at the bar, but he might as well have been. The other guests were seated too far away that he could hardly hear their voices over the music. He should have ordered something to eat as well but he could not bring himself to.  
Armand.  
His face had haunted him ever since. Before leaving the studio he had asked to take a picture of Louis in action. The dancer had of course agreed and Daniel had snapped away capturing the studio and everyone in it as well. While he did take a couple great shots of Louis twirling and jumping in centre the last photos he took were of Armand. Going through them at night he had felt great remorse and shame, feeling like a stalker, for having taken them without permission and consent. He had looked at them every night for a week now. Armand probably had not even noticed him and already forgotten the mousy reporter that had visited the Opera House. 

“Chilly Cheese Fries…”, the waiter said next to him and shoved a basket under his nose. Daniel looked at the man in confusion. “I…did not order these…”, he stuttered. “Yeah, I know but he did”, the man pointed behind him and Lestat, the blond dancer, approached him in the dark. He was wearing a way too tight blue shirt with high-waisted black trousers and what seemed to be ankle boots. His golden locks fell over his shoulders bouncing with every step he took the dim light reflecting off the thick strands. He sat himself across from Daniel and shoved a forkful of fries into his mouth. The waiter brought a glass of red wine over and placed it in front of the other man. He took a big sip.  
“Sorry”, he choked as he swallowed. “Didn’t have anything to eat today.” He gave the reporter a beaming smile and his eyes fell on the newspaper between them. “Is this your story?”, he asked nodding to the article.  
“Yes”, Daniel replied, lighting another cigarette as his had burned down to the bum the ash falling into the tray. “How did you find me?”  
“Find you?”, Lestat asked, breaking out into laughter. “I wasn’t looking for you, y’know. I live round the corner. Needed to come in to work a bit on my grand jetes. Marius still wasn’t satisfied. Apparently, I’m way too stiff…”  
“Excuse what? What are grandshits?”, Daniel interrupted, he had no idea what the men was talking about. Lestat simply laughed seemingly amused by Daniel’s pronunciation and lack of knowledge.  
“Grand jetes, not grandshits! The jumpy-jumps”, he corrected him. “But enough about me. How’re you doing? You seemed quite out of it when you ran out the studio”  
“I didn’t run out”, Daniel denied. “I was…hot”  
“Hot for Armand!”, Lestat laughed. Loudly. So loud, that the waiter glared at them disapprovingly. Heat spread on Daniel’s cheeks he knew he was blushing and hoped that the bar was too dark for the dancer to noticed. But notice he did and his teasing continued. He gave him a sly smile as he said: “Everyone with eyes could see what he was doing to you. I’m sure Marius was being a dick about it, wasn’t he?”  
“Well…I…wouldn’t say he was a dick…”, Daniel bit his tongue. He could hold his liquor well enough to still have at least some idea of what he could share with others when he was under the influence. But the urge to lash out and talk shit about Marius was strong none the less.  
Lestat had almost finished his food and emptied his glass in one sip. “Did he tell you about him and Armand? I could see his shit-eating grin from where I was practicing.” Daniel felt his stomach turn. So he had been right about the two. They were…involved. Jealousy wormed its way through his head all the while telling him how stupid he had been to get his hopes up in the first place. Armand was like a porcelain doll and Daniel like the darkest pit of hell. How could he have even considered anything happening between them. But he was jealous regardless. Jealous of the way Marius had probably touched and kissed him after he had trained him since Armand had been a child. A child. Nowadays people called this behaviour grooming. Daniel should have been appalled but he could not help wishing he had been in Marius’ position. To practise with him, lift him. He had dreamt of dancing with him like they had done in Swanlake he had gone to watch with his grandmother when he had been younger. Clasping his hands around Armand’s tiny waist, pressing his body into the other’s as he lifted him of the ground effortlessly. And now all he could think of was Marius doing this to young Armand, breathing hotly into his ear, promising to make him a grand dancer was he only willing to let him close.  
Daniel drowned his drink. He needed something much stronger.

“Jeez…”, made Lestat. “Hit a nerve there?” Without asking, he reached for Daniel’s cigarette and lit one himself. “But don’t worry”, he continued. “Hating Marius is something that comes naturally. I have quite the problem with the way he gets all touchy-feely with Louis. Ever since he gave him the part he can’t keep his hands off him, sometimes going so far as to insisting his arm be the barre while he’s warming up. But Louis is a fiery one and tells him off. Well, most of the time. I on the other hand, would’ve already ripped his head clear of his shoulders and believe me, this is something I’d love to do, considering the only person that should be touching Louis is me.”  
“Oh…so, you’re”, Daniel mumbled. He did not know what to say. He did not want to say anything or have this conversation at all. He did not know this man and was not interested in his love life.  
“Gay?”, Lestat finished of him. This was not what he was to say at all but he let him continue regardless. At least he did not have to talk. The blond dancer laughed again. “Well, mostly. But I’m a ballet dancer. Shouldn’t have been unexpected.” He winked at him and Daniel looked at him in confusion. “Are all ballet dancers gay?”, he inquired. Lestat shook his head, the blond locks bouncing on the blue shirt. “Of course not! But this is how the stereotype goes, non? Anyhow, you seem as if you’d want to ask me about Marius and gorgeous Armand. Ask away then!”  
Daniel sputtered. “I don’t care about these two. I don’t even know them!” Gently Lestat placed his long-fingered hand atop Daniel’s and smiled. “Please, you’re like an open book. It’s not hard to read you” he breathed. A cold shiver ran down Daniel’s spine. It did not feel as if something was off like the way Marius smiled but the need to talk suddenly became so strong it scared him. This man was a near stranger after all!  
“Are they…”, was all Daniel could muster and Lestat smiled approvingly. “No”, he answered. “They were and they still fuck occasionally but they broke things off before Armand entered the company.”  
“He must’ve been young then!”  
“He’s in his early twenties now, so I think they hit it off when he was about sixteen”, Lestat pondered and Daniel hat to supress the urge to puke. Sixteen!  
“Disgusting”, he said instead. “How old is Marius then?”  
“Probably fifty. Since he doesn’t actively dance anymore and hasn’t for a while I assume he’s around that age. Which means he was forty-something when they had slept together for the first time”, Lestat continued on. Daniel was angry. Angry because he had been right about everything but also because this sleezy douche had been able to get close to his red-haired dancer for almost a decade now. He should have been disgusted with himself for thinking in such a way but he was not.  
He ordered vodka and drowned it immediately.  
“I understand”, said Lestat lighting yet another of Daniel’s cigarettes. “I’d be jealous too. He’s absolutely stunning I must admit. Marius compared his face once to that of a Botticelli angel. And it’s quite fitting!” His gaze wandered to Daniel’s cell phone.  
“Want his number?”, Lestat asked cheerily. Daniel shook his head no. “I couldn’t!”, he protested. “He doesn’t even know who the hell I am.”  
“Ah-ah!”, made the dancer tapping his index finger against his pale cheek. “That’s what you think. But I saw him looking. He does have a resting bitch face, but I know when he likes someone, believe me.”  
He snatched Daniel’s cell phone of the table. “Code?”  
“1234”  
“That is not very secure”, he lectured him while entering what Daniel assumed to be Armand’s digits into the phone book. He grunted and shrugged his shoulders. “Well…easy enough to remember when I’m drunk as shit. Or worse.”  
Lestat laughed. “Understandable. Here”, he handed him the cell phone back. “He’s in there. Waiting for you. A simple text is all it takes”, he encouraged him but got interrupted as his own cell rang in his pocket.  
“Louis, mon cher!”, he quipped. And started talking in a language Daniel couldn’t place but assumed to be French as Louis had told him that he was from France. It sounded quite harsh. Harsher than Daniel had expected it to.  
He stared at his cell phone. Should he? Would Armand be angry that Lestat had given his number away without asking? Would he believe Daniel to be a crazy stalker? Probably. If he would get a text from a mysterious number asking him to meet him he would certainly be creeped out. He glanced at Lestat who sat with one leg thrown over the other smiling and smoking his stolen cigarette. He seemed happy. Something Daniel most likely would never be. He was a pit. A dark pit of uncertainty and self-hate. He was like poison to the ones around him and still he longed to text Armand, hold him in his arms and ruin him too.  
Now that he was drunk he could easily play it off as that – a mistake made under the influence and never text this boy again.  
While Lestat was still chatting away in French he unlocked his cell phone and typed:

Hello Armand, this is Daniel. The creepy reporter from Friday haha I just met Lestat and he gave me your number. I wanted to let you know you’re an amazing dancer. Want to meet up sometime? I swear, I’m not a serial killer haha 

Sent. He cringed way too hard when he went over the lines again and again. He was a reporter for heaven’s fuck, and he knew how to write good pieces. This just was not one of them it seemed. Story of his blasted life. He stared at the tiny ticks at the bottom of the message hoping they would never turn blue but alas they did. Not even ten seconds after he had sent the words that would be his doom Armand had read them. Without waiting for an answer Daniel locked his phone and buried his face in his hands. He knew what kind of answer he would get. The kind he would give.  
“Je t’aime!”, he heard Lestat say. At least he knew what that meant. “Well Daniel, I have to go. It was my pleasure. And text him. Promise, you won’t regret it”, the blond man encouraged him and stood to leave.  
“I already have…”, Daniel breathed. “But I can’t look.” Lestat grinned: “Then let’s have a look together, shall we?” 

The fuck did he do?! Tell him to never ever do this again!  
But I remember you. You thought you were sneaky with taking pictures of me but I definitely noticed. Bet Louis wasn’t even in view finder for the last couple ones! If you want good ones we can meet and I can dance for you again…

Daniel was aghast. He did not know how to react to such words, to an offer like that. His heart was beating so fast he feared it might beat right out of his chest. It almost hurt. His hands grew damp with sweat, his glasses slipped down his nose and he had to push them up a couple times before they would finally stick in place. What should sound like an innocent enough suggestion stirred something deep inside the young reporter. He wanted him to dance for him that was for certain. Naked in the woods where he would look like a forest spirit. Adorned by delicate flowers braided into his locks. He would take him on the damp, soft ground surrounded by butterflies and the light would fall through the thick leaves on the trees onto his flawless skin as he parted his plush lips when he clung to Daniel’s back pressing his body deeper into his. And afterwards he would dance for him again. Only him, for his eyes alone. Twirl on his long, elegant legs, looking at him with brown, warm eyes and fluttering his dark eye lashes. He indeed looked like a Renaissance painting, like a young faun.  
“That’s amazing!”, Lestat cheered. “Text him back”, he encouraged the young reporter. “I’d love to see where this is going but I have to leave, or Louis will have my head! Good luck!” With that he up and left. Daniel was staring at his phone unsure of what to do.  
The waiter approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder he said sternly: “Hope don’t intend to bail too.” Daniel rolled his eyes. Of course Lestat had not paid for the food he had consumed. “Do you take credit cards?”, he asked the waiter, an awkward smile on his lips.  
He had gone home this evening and fallen asleep almost immediately. He had not tossed and turned as he usually did, but instead had slipped into Morpheus’ arms so easily he did not even notice when he had done so. Daniel woke to a bunch of messages. About eight were from a number he did not recognise and three from Armand. He had texted him back last night, telling him how delighted he would be to meet up but had not managed to have a conversation beyond a few messages.  
He opened the first one. Turned out it was Lestat. 

How did it go?  
You meeting up?  
Louis tells me I shouldn’t have done that but he’s such a prude y’know?  
I should tell you that Armand probably will want to fuck you right away.  
He’s a bit repressed emotionally but definitely not when it comes to sex.  
Thought I should let you know.  
And sorry for stealing your number of your cell phone.  
Louis says I should apologise for that as well.

Daniel was not in the mood to reply right away. He was anxious to know what Armand had to tell him. Probably to tell him that they would not meet up. That he had not wanted to suggest it at all and that Daniel was not good enough for him anyways.  
Armand had sent him a regular text message and two pictures. They were still blurry as Daniel had not yet downloaded them onto his cell phone. But as he tapped them he was taken aback. Armand had sent him nudes.  
The first was on his back on what Daniel assumed to be his bed, surrounded by plush expensive looking pillows. His red locks surrounding his head like a mockery of a halo. The dark eyes looking at him sinfully seductive, the corners of his plush lips pulled into as he smiled deviously into the camera that he held slightly above his head so his slender torso was in the shot. He seemed to be naked. The fingers of his right hand were placed on his left nipple in a gesture that Daniel had seen a couple times on paintings of saints. His chest was arching of the mattress, his neck strained so his tender throat was exposed and begging to be kissed and nibbled at.  
Daniel felt himself getting hard. He immediately reached between his legs his eyes still roaming over the picture on his screen.  
The boy looked a bit out of it. His cheeks were flushed and his flat stomach carving it between the protruding rips was covered in what must be semen. So were the tips of his fingers. Daniel’s manhood jerked in his hand. Had he been thinking of him when he was touching himself the night before? Did he know that Daniel would not be able to hold back his arousal upon seeing the pictures Armand had sent him?  
Daniel could see the tip of his flaccid cock resting on his stomach and wanted nothing more than to devour it. He wanted to devour Armand whole. Lick his body up and down, taste the sheen of sweat on his impossibly pale skin, bite into these lips while they formed breathless words. He wanted to gaze into these dark, deep puddles that were his eyes while he thrusted into him and Armand was unable to keep them open.  
He tightened his hand at the base of his shaft to keep himself from finishing way too soon. With shaking fingers he tapped on the second picture and almost moaned at the sight. The boy was on his knees, his bum the focus on the camera. Daniel could easily see that his hole had been played his. The rim was all puffy and red and some of the lube still glistened on the skin. Armand was all lean muscle and almost no fat but his butt was round and plump none the less. He would love to sink his teeth into it. Lick his hole, nibble at the rim and dip his tongue into it while Armand would writhe in pleasure underneath him breathlessly telling him vile things.  
Guilt hit him with a bang. Even though the boy had probably sent these pictures with exactly this intention he felt bad touching himself while thinking of Armand and his Botticelli angel face. It must have been madness that made him call the boy on a whim. He held onto the base of his cock not daring to move his hand even a bit for he might finish before he could even hear his voice. If Armand was now disgusted with him so be it! He deserved it. He needed him to tell him how much of a despicable being he was, of how deviant and revolting he was.  
“Daniel?”  
The reporter gasped as he heard his name fall from the dancer’s lips. “Armand…”, he moaned.  
“Are you all right over there?”, the boy asked. “I’m sorry…”, Daniel breathed. “The pictures you sent me last night…I couldn’t help myself.”  
“Oh”, made Armand. Daniel could hear his grin through the speaker. “You’re touching yourself. Did you like what I sent you?”  
“Yes…”, Daniel moaned, slowly dragging his fingers over the heated skin of his erection. “I’m so sorry”, he panted. “I’m disgusting.” “What?”, Arman asked in confusion. “This is why I took them y’know?”  
Daniel groaned. Although this was the answer he had anticipated and expected it did not bring him the same joy and satisfaction that he would get out of being reprimanded. “You’re beautiful…”, he gasped instead his fingers grazing his swollen tip sliding over the glistening slit. “You have no idea what I want to do to you.”  
Armand chuckled on the other end. “Tell me then. What do you want to do?”  
“First I want to kiss you all over, lick every part of your body”, he started out, dragging his hand up and down his shaft. Faster than before. He let his eyes fall close and thought of Armand’s face. “I want to rim you. Make you all slick and loose and ready for me. I want to press your face into the pillow, tug at your locks and bite your swanlike neck. I want you so desperate that your hips want to buck against the bed but I won’t let you. I will hold onto your pretty hips until they’re all bruised. Black and blue and violet. Like obscene flowers on your milky white skin. And then”, Daniel was so close he needed something to take him over the edge. He would go mad if he would not tell him what he had longed for so dearly the day he had looked upon him holding onto the barre.  
“Go on Daniel”, Armand encouraged him. “Tell me, what you want. But I think I already know.” His voice now a low purr. “You want me to tell you that what you’re doing is wrong.” Daniel moaned. His dick twitched, pre-cum spilled over his fingers. The knuckles of his fingers holding onto the phone turned a ghostly white. “Ah…that’s it. Isn’t it. You’re disgusting. Wanting something like that from an almost stranger. From someone you’ve met once and haven’t even properly had a conversation with. And the pictures that you took, you filthy stalker? Did you look at them at night and fuck your hand because that’s the only thing that’ll ever touch you? Did you cum all over my face? God, you’re a deranged thing, aren’t you? I can hear your breathing, your moans and groans and whimpers. I know you’re getting off on this.”  
Daniel was almost there. A few more tucks and he would be at the point of no return. Armand moaned lightly on the other end. Was he?  
“Don’t you dare cum…”, the boy hissed. “You’ll ruin”, he instructed. Daniel groaned. He hated ruins but if that what his angel wanted then this is what he should get. At least he would feel what they were doing now for a lot longer than if he would come properly. Armand’s breathing hitched. “I’m getting close…”, he whispered. “Tell when you’re too.” Daniel sped his movements up. He was so close it would certainly not take a lot longer. He felt the pressure build up in his lower abdomen, soon. “I…”, he moaned into the speaker. “Hands off!”, Armand commanded and he did as he was told. He came. Well, he ejaculated. It was awfully unsatisfying. His dick was still half-hard after the whole ordeal and he felt the strong urge to touch himself. But he knew better than that. Suffering was what he was born to do after all.  
“Well done, Daniel”, Armand panted. “Now don’t you dare touch yourself. I’ll know when we see each other again.” With these words he hung up. Daniel lay in his bed, panting and wondering why he never had such satisfying sex before. 

It was Monday. Five o’clock in the afternoon. He had just gotten off an interview with a self-made artist that made it big with native pottery and was now waiting across the State Opera waiting for Armand. They had agreed on meeting yesterday evening. Daniel had insisted on taking the dancer out to dinner at a rather fancy restaurant that he himself had wanted to try for quite some time now. It was rather cold that day and the thick jacket he was wearing did nothing to keep the cold out and he cursed himself for the thin pair of jeans he had put on. He was shivering and kept his eyes fixed on the doors of the building hoping Armand to be finished soon.  
Finally, what had seemed like hours they cracked open and two people stepped onto the street. Marius and Armand. Daniel was fuming. He knew he had absolutely no right to be jealous, but he still was. He wanted to sock the older man square in the face to show him that he had no business to be so close to the young dancer. He lit a cigarette and took a long, angry drag. Maybe he should mark the boy, leave a hickey on the pale column of his neck as to show Marius who he belonged to now. But did Daniel not belong to him? Was it not him who was completely under Armand’s lovely spell? Was it not him who had been drawn in and been smitten with the dancer since day one?  
They approached him. Marius wearing his unsettling smile that disturbed Daniel so deeply. “Daniel…what a pleasure to meet you again so soon”, he said, putting his arm around Armand’s waist pulling him close. “What could you possibly be doing here”, he mused. “He’s here to meet me”, Armand chipped in and shoved the man off of him. “He’s taking me out to dinner.” Marius’ eyes grew wide in disbelieve for a brief moment before he settled on a face he believed to be neutral. It was full of resentment regardless. “I see. This must’ve been why you didn’t eat all day”, he said.  
“Armand!”, Daniel cried full of worry. He had not eaten all day? Surely, he must be starving. “Well, all the more reason to leave now. I’ll see you next week at the premiere”, he urged Armand on and nodded to Marius as a form of a civil good-bye although he longed to smash his handsome face in.  
“I never eat at work”, Armand reassured him, as he slipped an arm around Daniels and walked as close as possible without stumbling. “I can’t dance on a full stomach.” That Daniel could understand. When he was still working out regularly, a habit he should really pick up again, he had preferred to hit the gym in the morning right before work on an empty stomach. Running after breakfast had not agreed with him. “But I’m starving”, Armand smiled up at him. “Really looking forward to the place you picked for us.” “It’s a new Italian restaurant. Read about it in the paper”, Daniel mumbled, unsure of what to do with himself, now that he had the dancer’s body pressed up against his. “Hope you like Italian food.”  
“I love Italian food!”, Armand said. “Lived in Italy for quite a while and thoroughly enjoyed the cuisine over there!” Daniel was relieved. Somehow, he had been afraid Armand would not want anything based on carbohydrates and oil. He was skin and bones after all. His tiny stomach suddenly growled loudly and he laughed. Freely, the same way he had danced. Daniel stared at him as if he was the centre of the universe. Well, he was the centre of his universe at last.  
“Our agreement still stands, right?”, Daniel inquired. “And I’m so sorry for the frantic call yesterday.”  
“Of course it still stands. Friday night I’ll be at your place and hopefully there’s enough space for me to dance and you to take pictures. We could make it extra naughty and…”, he beckoned Daniel to lean down and breathed into his year, his breath cumulating in the cold air,: “and I’ll be naked. Would you like that?” Daniel nodded frantically. “Yes…”, he said, swallowing hard. “Yes…I’d like that very much.” “Good”, Armand whispered and pressed his forehead into Daniel’s woollen scarf, it probably felt scratchy against the delicate skin, but he did not back off. Daniel’s paranoia made him notice the many people passing them by staring disapprovingly at them, being uncomfortable with the sight of two men sharing such an intimate moment. But he placed his arms around the shorter man anyways and held him close. Softly he kissed his locks and hummed happily as Armand slipped his own arms around his waist. He looked up at him and the world disappeared around them it seemed. Daniel leaned down and Armand reached up so they could lock lips in the middle of the busy street. It was electrifying, what would he give to press the boy against the nearest wall and snog the living hell out of him. Just rutting against each other as if no one else was there. Clinging to each other in the heat of the moment and sharing what he felt for him. Shouting it into the dark afternoon, telling every stranger they would meet that they were a couple. That he, Daniel Molloy, had landed a beauty like Armand. Instead, he stood there clinging onto the other for dear life and kissing him breathless. It was magical, out of this world and probably how every kiss should feel was it in a fairy tale. He felt sixteen again, finally kissing the girl he had been longing for. His first kiss with a boy half a year later. Fireworks. Armand’s lips were indescribably soft against his and smelled of some kind of lip palm. He wanted this moment to never end. Armand smiled against Daniel’s mouth and lowered himself onto the ground fully a couple seconds later. He looked flustered. Beautiful. His cheeks a bright crimson.  
“C’mon. I want to eat”, he said after a while and tugged at Daniel’s sleeve.

They had finished their meals a while ago and were sitting in the crowded restaurant drinking expensive wine Daniel had promised to pay for but had no idea how to afford it. Armand had been delighted though. He was a snob. Daniel had figured as much. The time he had spent in Italy had been with Marius who had paid for all their expenses. He had been seventeen back then and had fully taken advantage of how Marius adored him.  
Daniel had rather not listened to these stories, but he did not want to interrupt Armand wanting to hear his voice and clinging to every word he said.  
“Have you ever felt taken advantage of?”, he could not help but ask. “Me? Never”, Armand shrugged and sipped at his wine, cheeks flushed. “He thought he was seducing me with promises of parts in performances but jokes on him he was so smitten by me I bled him dry.” “I was smitten by you the moment I saw you”, Daniel admitted and reached to take his hand. “Beauty is a curse”, Armand chuckled. “Especially if you have it.”  
“Oh, aren’t we humble”, Daniel laughed. But he had to admit had he Armand’s face he would never stop looking in the mirror. “Why be humble when beauty fades so quickly”, Armand shrugged. “It’d be wasted. Now, tell me about you. I know you’re a reporter and get off on being talked down but not much else.”  
“There’s not much else. I smoke and drink a little bit too much. That’s probably it”, Daniel sighed and fixed his stare upon the fork that lay unused next to the empty basket that used to hold bread. He picked up the piece of cutlery and used it to nudge ate the basket. “Don’t downplay yourself so much. I was quite fascinated with you when you walked in as well. I was annoyed at first but then I felt a pull towards you I’ve never felt before”, Armand encouraged him. “Tell me about the most ridiculous article you ever had to write!”  
“Other than the pretentious piece your Marius composed? I once had to write about a clown performing at birthday parties. This was somehow more depressing than ridiculous. He was a lonely man but urged me to part take in his stupid party tricks. I was awful at it and the children not only thought the same but started to chuck muffins at us.”  
“’Andromeda’ is really out there isn’t it? But everything he has ever written was a huge success. It is supposedly about myself, that what he told me at least- but it could also be about any other boy he has seduced in the last couple months”, Armand rolled his eyes. “I think you’d make a good party-clown. I’d lick the muffins right off your body.”  
Daniel almost choked on his wine. He coughed. “Well thank you. But that would be inappropriate in front of a bunch of children.” The young reporter could feel Armand’s leg slide up his. The foot nudged at his crotch. Armand smiled innocently at him. “Oh, wouldn’t it be”, he said. Daniel sat frozen in place.  
“Do you like your new job?”, Armand inquired. “I do, very much so. But I feel as if the article I wrote about ‘Andromeda’ really lacks professionalism. I know nothing about ballet”, Daniel admitted and chuckled uneasily.  
“Oh, first we have the different positions of the feet”, Armand explained and Daniel really did not know where he was going with this until he felt the sole of the boy’s boot move against his ever growing bulge.  
“We have first position…”, the dancer turned his foot out, so it was parallel to the floor. “It’s when the heels touch each other. Second is…”, he slid it a couple inches to the side, slowly. “…when our feet are apart. Third…”, he slid it back and rotated it a bit back to a normal position. “…When the heels overlap a bit. Fourth…”, a slid up his bulge. Daniel hissed, his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He bucked into the pressure against his crotch. “Like fifth with our feet in front of each other but a bit apart. And fifth…”, again Armand rotated his foot to be parallel to the ground. “where we’re like this, feet close together covering each other.” It sounded unpleasant for sure, but Daniel soiled his trousers the moment his date twisted his foot back and slowly removed it from his crotch. He laughed. “Did you?”, he asked amused. Daniel nodded. Ashamed. This is what he felt.  
“Wow, you really want me, right?”, the red-haired dancer asked. Daniel again nodded. “More than anything”, he panted. Out of breath. Armand lifted his glass to his lips, letting the dark red liquid run down his throat but making sure to spill a bit so it dripped down the corners of his full mouth. “This is what I love about you. How much you want me. I’ll make sure to ruin you for everyone else, Darling”, he placed his hand on top of Daniels and grinned.

Friday had not come quickly enough in Daniel’s opinion. He had cleaned his flat thoroughly, rolled up the carpet so Armand would have an easier time sliding over the wooden floor. The couch had been pushed against the wall as well as the table. He did not want the young dancer to injure himself by crashing into his furniture. Now he was nursing a beer while pacing his flat. Never before had he been so nervous.  
Every few seconds he checked the time only to realise that he still had more than half an hour until Armand would show up. A few cigarettes and another beer later the doorbell rang.  
Armand.  
He was here. He let him in and the boy fell into his arms as soon as Daniel opened the door on him. They kissed of a good while before the reporter finally stepped aside so Armand could enter. “Nice flat”, he complimented the one-bedroom apartment Daniel could afford. He chuckled nervously. Armand slipped out of his red coat that somehow did not compliment his hair at all but still looked good on him and draped it over the couch. He then proceeded to take off his jumper and trousers, slowly revealing more and more of the moonlight-coloured skin. Daniel stared at him. He could not avert his eyes.  
“Thought I’d offer you something to drink first”, he muttered. “But you want to get right to it, it seems.”  
Armand shrugged as he pulled off his socks. “I’ve been waiting for this all week”, he admitted. “I want to be the sole centre of your attention. Let me dance for you and marvel at me.”  
Daniel got behind the camera he had positioned on the far off wall so he would be able to capture the dance positions as a whole. “I’m ready whenever you are”, he let the boy know. Armand wrapped the bands of his nude-coloured ballet shoes around his dainty ankles and fasted them tightly. Then he nodded.  
He stood, stretched a bit but Daniel assumed he was still warmed-up from rehearsal earlier that day. Armand bent to one side, then the other and proceeded to slide his feet into what Daniel now knew was fifth position. Armand stood up straight, smiled at him and lifted each arm to the side before bending his knees slightly. Daniel kept the finger on the shutter, he wanted to capture each and every move. Armand raised one of the legs slightly, kicked it out to the front, then did the same to the side and back, before bringing it back in. He pushed himself to stand on the tip of his toes and took tiny steps, stretching his arms up. It looked more than painful but beautifully effortless at the same time. He slid down to the soles of his feet, leaned to one side, stretching one of the legs out long, before he pushed himself back en pointe and into an arabesque. He pushed the leg up high, bringing the legs back together, down to what was the first position and jumped. The grand jetes he had learned thanks to Lestat. A pirouette at the end.  
Daniel was drawn in. Armand twirled through his living room to music that was not heard by the reporter. He could not tell whether what the boy was doing was a choreography from the ‘Andromeda’ or something he just wanted to do in the moment. He stretched one of the legs out to the front, folded in on himself then jumped up, slapping his legs together. He was now sweating. Daniel eyes were fixed on the hair in his arm pits, the red flames climbing up his belly. His manhood nestled resting in the nest of soft curls. Another pirouette en pointe, yet another grand jetes and an arabesque. He was a marvellous dancer. The last beams of orange sunlight trapped in his curls, reflected off his soft skin. He looked like a god. Apollo perhaps, god of music and sun. Daniel took picture after picture. Every jump, every twirl needed to be captured. Preserved for eternity.  
Armand flew over the floor-boards, seemingly ethereal. Daniel longed to come to him and join him in this dance that he only performed for his eyes to see. No others, no audience, no Marius was here to witness what Armand was giving him in these moments. He pictured himself behind the dancer, swaying with him to the music. Hold him tight, pressing his body close.  
He spun on his tip toes, did a couple small steps and then pushed himself up on the left leg, lifted his arms up and leaned back. Finally, he came back to the soles of his feet and fixed his gaze on Daniel. He was panting, his body covered with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead. The way his torso moved with every breath made Daniel abandon his camera for good and hurry over to Armand. He flung his arms around him lifted him up and easily carried him to the bed where he flung him onto the sheets. He was so small and fragile. He might break him any second.  
“Fuck me”, Armand demanded as he lay there, his breath heavy. He reached his slender arms up and beckoned Daniel to come closer. “Make me yours”, he panted. And Daniel did as asked. He crawled atop the boy, kissing him senseless. He felt so big and strong compared to the dancer and it gave him a feeling of superiority he had never known. He let his hands travel over his body, grab onto his hips and dug his fingers into the skin. “Armand”, he breathed. “Yes, it’s me”, the other almost comforted him and nudged Daniel’s nose with his before kissing the reporters neck softly. Carefully he let his lips travel over the skin. “What do you want?”, he asked. “Own me”, Daniel responded. And Armand started nibbling on the junction between shoulder and collar bone, biting down harshly at some point. Sucking at the spot to make a red flower blossom where he had abused the skin with his mouth. Daniel moaned louder than he had intended and spun them round so that Armand was on top. He ground his hips into Daniel’s and used his fingernails to scratch over the reporter’s torso towards his hips. “You’re still dressed”, he commented and pouted. Daniel twitched in his trousers. How could he not when looking at such a face. “Undress. Thought you wanted to do this. Or are you nothing but a creep liking to watch people dance naked in your living room?”, he commanded, and Daniel hurried to get his clothes off. Quicker than he had ever undressed. He almost tore his shirt right off. When he was done Armand grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the bed. “After we’re done, you’ll never want anyone else”, he informed him. His stare was cold, yet affectionate and Daniels heart skipped a beat. “Abuse me”, he breathed. Armand did not reply but simply backhanded him. “Do not tell me what to do!”, he spat. Daniel thought he might cum any minute, his cheek throbbing as well as his manhood. “I’m sorry, Armand”, he panted. “That is not how you’re to address me. I want you to call me Master”, he instructed, and Daniel nodded. “Am I to be understood? Answer me with words or are you too stupid to do so?”, he asked harshly. “Yes, master”, Daniel panted. His head was swimming. For someone so small he was incredibly dominant. Little by little Daniel sank into the mushy goodness that was sub-space. “Good boy”, Armand praised and gently kissed his forehead. His nails dug into his sides and scratched him bloody. Armand dug his head down and placed a trail of kisses down to Daniel’s crotch. Where he had almost expected him to suck him off, but this was not what happened. Of course not. Armand bit down harshly where his hip bone was jutting out. It hurt as the boy was by no means holding back and the skin broke. He screamed in pleasure as he felt the hot blood running over his skin. “Master…”, he gasped, and Armand hummed in satisfaction.  
“You’re so weird”, Armand informed him as he propped himself on his elbows blood smeared all over his lips making him look like a vampire. “Who gets off on being mistreated. Disgusting.” He emphasised each syllable of the last word. “C’mere and show master how well you can put that mouth to use”, he beckoned him over with his slender index finger. Daniel lunged forward and pressed him down onto the mattress kissing him all over. “Atta boy”, Armand praised. “Maybe you’re not entirely useless.” Daniel took his manhood between his lips, gently sucking on the engorged glans. Armand put a hand atop Daniel’s hair, drawing his fingers through the blond strands. Tugging on them harshly when he was dissatisfied with what the reporter was doing. “Better”, he moaned. “Do it better.” Daniel was already doing his best, he tried to take more of Armand into his mouth, but he had almost no experience giving head so this proofed to be a rather difficult task for him.  
“Marius always did such a good job”, Armand said, loosening his grip on Daniel’s hair apparently waiting for the other’s reaction. It hurt. But in a good way, Daniel had to admit. He immediately forced himself to take on more and his nose was only a couple inches from Armand’s fiery nest of hair. “Such a good boy you are”, he sighed in response. “Only have to tell you of my dear daddy’s prowess and suddenly you can do the impossible.” He pushed on Daniel’s head to urge him closer to his hole. Eagerly the reporter dipped his head lower and kissed around the rim, licking the sweet skin there and sucking gently. Armand hissed in pleasure. “Lick me there”, he instructed, and Daniel needed not to be asked twice. He enthusiastically dipped his tongue into the hole, caressing it with licks and kisses, making it soft and pliant. “Fuuuckkk…”, he heard Armand say. “Stop…stop”, he tugged on the hair. “Fuck me…just fuck me. I can’t take it anymore. Didn’t eat at all for this.” Daniel cringed at the comment. He really had never entertained such a thought. Regardless he reached for his nightstand for a condom and lube. As he was going to coat his fingers with the sticky liquid, Arman held him back: “No, I absolutely hate the feeling of fingers inside me! Just your dick.” Daniel was taken aback but did as he was told and rolled the condom over his erection, slathering thrice the amount of lube on. He wanted to make sure.  
“Now…”, Armand said. “You better make this good. You have big shoes to fill!”  
Daniel fucked into him like a beast. With the slender dancer’s leg over his shoulders he bent him in half. They had tried to keep their spiel up, Armand telling him to do better but half-way through this they did not even manage to talk. They fucked like someone who had been starving would devour food. Armand clung to him for what seemed to be dear life and scratched his back blood. Daniel had an incredibly hard time not to finish too soon. He kissed the boy frantically, pushing into him; deeper with every thrust the tiny body allowed him. “Daniel…”, Armand panted. “Daniel…I’m…”, he spluttered cum all over their chests. Daniel came deep inside of him. Holding him close all the while. 

“Gosh, we could do so much better next time”, Armand mumbled as he cuddled close to Daniel wearing his jumper while the reporter was trying to make Netflix respond to the remote control. The young dancer was smoking one of Daniel’s cigarettes that he had snatched without asking. “Next time?”, Daniel asked and smiled down at the little bundle in his arms. “If you’re down”, Armand shrugged.  
He would get an ‘I love you’ out of him eventually.

‘Andromeda’ proofed to be as pretentious and confusing as Marius had made it out to be. By the end of the performance Daniel still could not make out what in God’s name it had been about. When Louis died tragically on stage and the crowd jumped to their feet to cheer and applaud, he was happy he did not have to suffer through another act. Marius waved to the audience accepted flowers and congratulations and let himself be bathed in the flashing lights of the cameras. Armand spotted Daniel in the crowd and jerked his head towards the exit. Daniel’s mouth formed the words ‘Pizza’ and Armand gave him a beaming smile.


End file.
